Page 23 of Charming Villain

“I’m coming over,” I reply flatly. “Tell Sal.”

He sighs into the phone’s speaker. “You better not have done something stupid,” he mutters, but I hang up without responding. Because if Ihaven’tdone something stupid yet, I feel dangerously close to it.

Dante’s house is larger than mine, but it feels different the moment I walk through the front door. It’s not just a home; it’s filled with warmth, with an undeniable sense that people herebelong. Hallway walls display framed photos, and living room cushions bear small stains from spilled drinks and the occasional toddler meltdown. It’s lived-in. I hate how it makes my throat tighten with something suspiciously like envy. There’s a half-finished puzzle sprawled across the coffee table, its edges lovingly worn. Even the scuff marks on the baseboards tell stories of rushed mornings and playful afternoons.

I barely cross the threshold when a tiny figure barrels toward me. Serafina, Dante and Adalina’s daughter, stumbles over her own feet but keeps her wide brown eyes fixed on me. She squeals, “Zio Luch!” as she grips the hem of my jacket, half-laughing, half-wobbling on her chubby legs.

Her joy at seeing me sends a shock through my system. I grab and hold her at arm’s length, uncertain what to do with a sticky toddler who’s grinning like I’m her favorite person in the entire universe.

Serafina’s grin widens, showing off her handful of baby teeth. She babbles something, drooling a bit as she attempts to say my name, her little face scrunched in concentration. “Uck-y,” she manages, slapping a tiny hand against my chest.

I grimace, more from the softness in my own heart than from actual discomfort. She plants a wet kiss on my cheek, and I nearly drop her, caught between instinctive recoil and unexpected tenderness. “She drooled on me,” I mutter, setting her carefully on the floor while trying to sound more annoyed than I actually feel.

Adalina appears in the hallway, arms folded and a knowing smirk on her lips. “She’s been asking for you all day.”

“Lucky you,” Dante calls from the living room. He sounds amused.

Rolling my eyes, I watch Serafina toddle off, squeaking in childish delight about something only she understands. Her tiny feet pat-pat against the floor as she disappears around the corner, leaving a trail of giggles in her wake. My chest tightens again.This is what a real home looks like.

I find Dante and Salvatore in the living room, sprawled on the couches with glasses in hand. The curtains are half-drawn, letting in the evening glow. Empty takeout containers litter the coffee table between them, evidence of a lazy Sunday. Salvatore lifts a glass in my direction, not quite a toast, more of a silentabout time you showed up.

Dante jerks his chin at the empty spot beside him. “Sit.”

I sink into the couch cushions with a weary sigh, ignoring the glass of whiskey Dante slides across the coffee table toward me. My mind is too cluttered for alcohol right now. Besides, if I get drunk, I might say something I’ll regret. And there’s already enough I regret about today.

Salvatore arches a brow, his expression caught between amusement and concern. “Not drinking, Luc? That’s a first.”

I level him with a glare, letting the ice in my stare match the chill in my voice. “I’m not in the mood.”

He shrugs, not even phased by my bad attitude. “Suit yourself. More for me.” He takes a swig, then smacks his lips exaggeratedly. “Mmm. Tastes like top-shelf. You sure you don’t want any?”

A gentle patter of footsteps signals Adalina’s approach. She ducks into the living room, a well-worn dish towel thrown casually over her shoulder, wisps of dark hair escaping her messy bun. Serafina toddles behind her, one hand gripping the back of Adalina’s leg like it’s her personal lifeline. The little girl’s eyes light up again when she sees me, her whole face brightening for a moment, but she seems more interested in the toy rabbit Dante left on the coffee table. She makes a beeline for it, snatching the stuffed animal with both hands and hugging it fiercely to her chest, burying her tiny nose in its plush fur.

Adalina smiles at me, a polite but guarded look. We’ve had our differences, me and my sister-in-law, enough to fill a book of grievances neither of us is willing to open. Still, she manages a civil nod, her dish towel slipping slightly from her shoulder. “Dinner’s on the stove if any of you want leftovers. These two have eaten garbage all day, but feel free to grab something that won’t clog your arteries.” Her tone carries a mix of motherly concern and subtle judgment.

Salvatore raises his hand in mock excitement, playing up his role as the perpetual teenager despite his age. “I’ll check it out soon, ma,” he says, winking at Adalina, his charm as offensive as it is predictable.

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly, the gesture softened by the hint of a genuine smile, before bending to kiss Dante’s temple. “I’ll leave you boys to your talk.” Then she scoops up Serafina—who squeals, “Zio Luuu!” with all the unbridled enthusiasm only a toddler can muster—and disappears down the hallway.

I watch them go with a hollow ache growing in my chest. That’s what a real marriage looks like: trust, affection, the casual ease of people who genuinely care for each other. My gaze lingers on Serafina’s little arms wrapped around Adalina’s neck, and my thoughts spiral towhat if…? Their footsteps fade down the hall, punctuated by another of Serafina’s delighted giggles, and I have to force myself to look away before the others notice how deep this particular wound cuts.

The moment they’re out of sight, Dante levels me with a stare that makes me feel like he’s trying to peel back my skull and read my thoughts directly. “All right, out with it. You didn’t drag us here for idle chatter.”

I lean forward, elbows on my knees, trying to organize my words into something that won’t make me sound like a complete fool. “This...thing…with the Lucatello girl. It’s not going the way I wanted.” The admission tastes bitter on my tongue.

Salvatore snorts. “Let me guess: you tried to break the girl, but she’s not breaking.” His tone carries equal parts amusement and condescension.

Dante lifts a brow, his expression shifting from scrutiny to something more knowing. “Or maybe you don’t want to break her anymore?” The question hangs in the air between us, uncomfortably close to truths I’m not ready to voice.

I glare at both of them, words tangling on my tongue. They’re not wrong, but I can’t admit that so easily. They’re my brothers, the people I’ve trusted with my life since the day I was born, but I can’t trust them with the vulnerable thoughts in my head. No one gives you shit like your brothers—it’s written into our DNA alongside the family name. “I was going to hurt Gianna to hurt Giovanni.” I force the words out through clenched teeth. “But now, everything’s gone to hell, and I’m not even sure which way is up anymore.”

“So fix it,” Salvatore drawls, as unhelpful as always.

We lapse into silence. My eyes wander to the hallway where Adalina and Serafina disappeared.If Dante can have that kind of life—why not me?The thought creeps in, uninvited and unwelcome.

“I want a family,” I mumble so low that I’m not sure they catch it.

Salvatore nearly chokes on his drink, whiskey sloshing over the rim as he blinks at me in wide-eyed disbelief. “You what?”

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